


Not Subtle At All

by 3x3



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, and he's gotta prove that Juliet's not just another one of his passing flings, ft ben's neglectful parents in flashbacks, i made tybalt a kid bc why not, in which Romeo is less of a dumbass and actually goes to his friends about Juliet, jessica s this is for u not that you're going to see this, there is a lot of bencutio bc why not, what a party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 19:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15589440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x3/pseuds/3x3
Summary: “Aww, it’s so nice to have a sibling isn’t it?” The adults coo at him.He shakes his head and puts on his best adult smile. “Mine is a handful, to be honest.”Romeo is technically only his cousin. But they’re definitely close enough to be brothers. And that’s only because Benvolio’s own parents weren’t around anymore and his uncle took him in.Yes, Romeo is like a little brother to him. He’s just as infuriating as an actual one too.





	Not Subtle At All

**Author's Note:**

> in which Romeo grows some sense and actually remembers to introduce Juliet to his best pals because dude your friend died for you without knowing you're married and that's not okay.  
> also I made Tybalt small and now his aggression seems more endearing since it's not fatal anymore.  
> I actually wrote this because of a conversation with a friend.

“Aww, it’s so nice to have a sibling isn’t it?” The adults coo at him.

He shakes his head and puts on his best  _adult smile_. “Mine is a handful, to be honest.”

Then they’d chortle in that high, condescending way adults adapt when they speak to a  _child_. “That’s what the little ones all say, but the bond will always be there, even when your mature into bo _ring_  grown-ups.”

Romeo is technically only his cousin. But they’re definitely  _close_  enough to be brothers. And that’s only because Benvolio’s own parents weren’t around anymore and his uncle took him in.

Yes, Romeo is like a little brother to him. He’s just as infuriating as an actual one too.

* * *

“Why won’t the ladies  _like me_ , Benny? Why won’t they just  _like me_?”

_Maybe if you stopped being such a desperate disaster they would, eventually. And maybe if you were five years older than you are. Physically, that is. Mentally, you still have a long way to go._

It’s hard to take a fifteen-year-old too seriously. And besides, Romeo’s progressively getting more and more creepy with his borderline stalker behavior. Ladies don’t like that. Well, maybe some do, and he’s not here to judge them, but most don’t, and frankly, Romeo hasn’t been the most respective of their boundaries. He’s horrible at romancing honestly. So far. Sure, he can sprout a river of flowery love poems on the spot, given the right girl in his mind, but Benvolio can see how that might be sort of overwhelming.

Mercutio has fallen asleep during Romeo’s mid-rant countless of times already. Thankfully Romeo is often too absorbed in his speeches to actually take notice whether his audience are still with him or not. (For most of the cases, it’s  _or not_.) As long as they snap back to focus while Romeo closes off his lovesick monologue, they’re fine, and won’t be forced to sit back down and listen for another hour.

Benvolio suspects that Romeo  _does_ know about how both Mercutio and he lose focus fifteen minutes in, but pretends not to notice. Or maybe he just  _is_ that oblivious, which doesn’t seem too far out the realm of possibilities, to be honest. Romeo  _is_ awfully dense about most things that’s not in the way of his quest for love.

 _He’s truly born in the wrong century._  Benvolio muses.  _Romeo belongs with the ancient poets. The ones that write epic historical ballads on epic historical battles, about epic historical heroes and their epic historical beloved ones._  He frowns. He’s overused the words  _epic_ and  _historical_  now.

“Have a fruit, Ben.” A sudden apple dangles in front of his face obnoxiously.

Benvolio would recognize those sparkly nails anywhere.

“Mercutio.” He acknowledges.

His dramatic friend shakes his head and fakes a sniffle. “So cold towards your best and dearest companion. My tender heart is breaking, sweet boy.”

Benvolio holds back the urge to roll his eyes. “Hello, Mercutio.” he drags out the words deliberately, entertaining the other teen. “Thank you ever so much for the apple. How may I possibly do to repay your generosity?”

“There’s no need for that talk, my liege. Seeing your brilliantly priceless smile is a reward rich enough to keep me endlessly wealthy for the rest of my entire life.” Mercutio even accompanies that with a half-bow.

On his previous train of thought, Mercutio would fit right in with the knights, fighting for a maiden’s honor or something equally corny.

“Have you seen our dear little shit Romeo?” he asks off-handedly.

Mercutio raises his eyebrows comically. “I do believe he’s trailing after one Rosaline Capulet. I trust you are briefly acquainted with her?”

Benvolio sighs heavily. “I feel bad for her now.” he admits. “I was being  _polite_. It’s what you do, right? Introduce people who don’t know each other?”

“ _Weeeeeeeeellllll.”_ Mercutio make a dubious noise. He’s not helping Benvolio ease his guilt.

Rosaline Capulet is Benvolio’s partner for a group project from the civics class they shared. They happened to be discussing about the homework when Romeo popped out from nowhere, in search for his elder cousin. In approximately three seconds he had fallen thoroughly and utterly in love with Rosaline Capulet and her long wavy locks. He’s been following her ever since, both social media wise  _and_  literally speaking.   

Now Rosaline Capulet throws Benvolio dirty looks whenever they cross paths in the halls, which is a little uncalled for, but Benvolio thinks that he deserves it for unleashing Romeo onto her. In his defense, he didn’t  _know_  that Rosaline Capulet would be Romeo’s type. (Okay, who was he kidding, aside from the hypothesis that Romeo might be attracted to anything that  _moves,_  she was  _totally_ his type. Tall, slender but fit. Intelligent. And  _way_  out of his league.)

Benvolio ought to have a little chat with his cousin about scaring off his civics project partner. It’s so hard to find a partner who’s not completely braindead these days.

“I should probably apologize to her. Formally.” he concludes. “If she can stand to listen to me more than five seconds before taking off, in fear of Romeo.”

“ _You’re_  being touchingly supportive of your dear baby cousin.” Mercutio remarks, smirking at Benvolio as he bites into the apple he had supposedly given to Benvolio. Benvolio makes a face but doesn’t comment on it, since there’s really no point in arguing when it comes to Mercutio.

“I just hope he would stop setting himself up for heartbreak.”

“Now, now.” Mercutio says, as he swings a casual arm around Benvolio’s shoulders. “He’s very young. And very dumb.”

“You’re practically the same age.” Benvolio mutters under his breath, which Mercutio promptly ignores.

“Point is! He’ll grow  _out of it_. There  _will_ be a day in the future when he finally wakes up from his dreams of true love and realizes that true love doesn’t exist after all.” There’s a bitter undertone in Mercutio’s upbeat chirp that Benvolio has become used to hearing in Mercutio’s view on love.

He doesn’t really believe in Mercutio’s cynicism. Then again, he doesn’t believe in Romeo’s romanticism either. Benvolio, the natural peace-maker he is, hovers somewhere between the two of them. A realistic dreamer one might say, if such a state of being exists.

“Will he be joining us any time soon?”

Mercutio snorts. “Judging by Rosaline’s utter disregard of his affections, I’d say  _very_.”

Speaking of the devil.

“Am I really so revolting that she finds the need to tell me that she’s becoming a nun? By the way, you guys think she really meant that?”

“Who, Rosaline?” Mercutio rolls his eyes at their shared honorary little brother.

Romeo huffs. “No,” he mocks. “Your mom.”

“Alright. No need to get snappy.” Benvolio decides to cut in before it escalates into a war of badly thrown insults. “And Romeo, even if Rosaline  _does_ become a nun I doubt that it’s because of you. It’s her own life and we are to respect her decisions, okay?”

“Easy for you to say.” Romeo grumbles, “ _You’ve_ never known the pain of loving someone who doesn’t love you back.”

Benvolio’s face flushes bright red. Half from embarrassment, half from anger.

He loves Romeo, he really does, but sometimes his little cousin just doesn’t  _think_ before he goes around firing off the mouth.

“Please, Romeo.” Mercutio throws in before Benvolio can get a word in. “What you’re feeling isn’t love. It’s just a huge boner.”

“You just couldn’t have chosen a better word for that.” he mumbles under his breath. Mercutio only grins. “Sorry babe. It gets the message through clear and simple.”

“Why are you the way you are?”

“Okay, can you two stop flirting for like two seconds and help me with Rosaline? Because it’s really gross. It’s like watching my parents.”

“ _You’re_ gross.” Is Benvolio’s eloquent retort, as Mercutio shoots back, “Is that the proper way to speak to your parents, young man?”

Benvolio elbows him in the ribs. “Babe, don’t encourage him.”

Mercutio’s grin widens with glee. “I’m so sorry babe. How can I make it up to you?” He even throws in an obnoxious air kiss for good measure, the little shit.

Romeo makes a gagging noise. “Why are you two tormenting me like this? What have I ever done to deserve this?”

“But Romeo, it’s only the parents’ job to embarrass their child the best they can.” Benvolio says innocently. “Isn’t that right, dear?” He raises his eyes at Mercutio, who just guffaws and holds out a hand for him to high five. “Damn right, darling.”

“ _Stooooooooop._ ”

“Okay, we’ll stop.” Benvolio caves in first.

Mercutio gives a whine in protest.

Benvolio ignores him. “But how are we supposed to help with Rosaline? She’s given her answer. Flat out. It’s important to know when to let go or you’re gonna look downright obsessive, and even we can’t help you when she eventually files a restraining order on you.”

“Yeah.” Mercutio chimes in lazily. “Just forget about her. You’ll find your new crush in no time.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that she is  _the one_? That I can  _feel_ it, before you believe me?”

“Uh,” Mercutio raises his hand and waves it in the air like he’s waiting to be called on. “We didn’t believe you for all your previous 37 ‘true loves’. What makes you think number 38 is going to be any different?”

“Past 38.” Benvolio reminds him. “You forgot Livia. She broke the record actually, by lasting for ten minutes.”

“ _Right_. Dang I keep forgetting Livia.”

“Not the point!” Romeo groans. “You never take me  _seriously_.”

“Don’t be mad as us for trying to look out for you.”

“I don’t  _need_ you looking out for me. I can do that myself, thank you very much.” Romeo crosses his arms.

Benvolio and Mercutio exchange a look, like the respective Mom FriendTM and Dad FriendTM that they are.

“Okay.” Mercutio shrugs. “But your moping has got to come to an end.”

“How can I, when I’m dying of heartbreak?”

He cannot seem to find strength to deal with any more of Romeo’s lovesickness. “Just find another girl.”

“And where in the world am I supposed to just  _find another girl_? Who’s also  _our age_?”

“The Capulet’s party.” Benvolio blurts out loud. “Tonight.”

Crap. Where is his brain to mouth filter when he needs it the most?

“Say what now?”  _Mercutio_ is the one whose eyes are suddenly wide with interest. “Were you originally going to keep a  _party_  from us?”

“It’s a  _Capulet_ party.” Romeo mutters. “We’d get killed.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Benvolio frowns at him. “Our feuding families haven’t killed any member of the other’s in decades.”

“They can still soak us, though.”

“Scared of a couple of Capulets?” Mercutio scoffs. “C’mon. We  _have_ to crash it. We  _have_ to. We can’t know about a party and  _not_ crash it.”

“A couple? More like an entire family of them. They are a  _big_ family.” argues Romeo, “What’s your obsession with parties anyway?”

“Maybe if  _you_ threw one every once in a while.”

“Hey!” Romeo slaps him on the arm. “How can you two urge me to crash a party while I’m still in pain about my lost love?”

It’s probably a bad idea.

Screw that, it’s  _definitely_ a bad idea.

Who knew decent,  _boring_ Benvolio Montague was capable of coming up with bad ideas?

“Rosaline would be there.” Benvolio supplies weakly. “I actually heard about it from her, back when we were still on speaking terms.”

“ _There you go_ ,” Mercutio holds out his arms. “Once you get to see Rosaline Capulet in the midst of flocks of other pretty girls, you’ll forget about her in an instant.”

“Exactly!” Benvolio jumps in without missing a beat. “She’d be like a crow next to swans.”

Romeo seems to think about it.

That’s good, he can benefit from thinking more often.

“Fine.” he finally relents. “I’ll go. But only because Rosaline would be there.”

“Great!” Mercutio claps his hands together. “It’s decided. But before that, can we go have some dinner? I’m starving.”

They pile down the sidewalk, and Benvolio blanks out a little, only dividing the slightest bit of attention to his chatting friends.

_I’ve been been having this dream-_

_So have I._

_Oh yeah, what’s yours about?_

_That people who dream are often big fat liars? Get it? Cause they lie- on their backs._

_That’s gotta be one of your worst puns yet to date._

_You underestimate my punniness._

If possible, he’d really want Romeo to stop exposing his heart so easily and so often. He’s too young and too fragile, but if he kept bringing it up, Romeo would get mad at him for treating him like a child.

Gee, parenting is hard.

But trailing along after his two favorite people, he finds it hard to stay in such low spirits, and even though he had only voiced the suggestion by accident, and regretted it immediately after, Benvolio can’t help but feel a slimmer of something that felt like joy… or excitement.

That’s what being a teenager is about, isn’t it?

It might not be the bad night he’d expected after all.

* * *

Benvolio was wrong. It was a  _horribly_  bad night, not that he would know about  _that_  until after.

* * *

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but,  _you were right_. It’s just, I met this  _girl-_ ”

“What happened to your one true love Rosaline?”

“Who?”

 _And then he questions us why we never believe his claims of his soulmate or whatever he calls them_. Benvolio is sure that if he rolled his eyes any further back he’s going to get a pretty good view of the back on his brain.

Which is sort of harrowing if you think about it.

He decides not to think about it.

“Okay, fine. Who’s the lucky gal this time?”

“Juliet Capulet.”

He nearly spits out his water.

“Shit,” Mercutio pipes up from rummaging through their kitchen cabinets looking for snacks. “Isn’t that like,  _The Capulet’s_  daughter?”

It’s one thing to be crushing on their rival family’s distant cousin, and a whole other to be blatantly hitting on their precious only child.

“That’s her.” Romeo even has the decency to sound sheepish, which is bullshit, in Benvolio’s opinion. But no one asks for Benvolio’s opinion about anything ever, so it doesn’t matter either way.

Mercutio stands up, a victorious energy bar in his hand. He pats Romeo on the shoulders, and says to him with touching sincerity, “You sure know how to pick ‘em, champ.”

“You say that as if I  _intentionally_ fell for Juliet  _because_ she’s  _The Capulet’s_ daughter.” Romeo mumbles, and pushes Mercutio’s hand off roughly. “It doesn’t happen like that. It’s not my fault that she’s the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“Yes.” Benvolio agrees. “Your entire life, a long and depressing fifteen whole years.”

“And a month.” Mercutio chirps along. “Don’t forget to add that month. He hates it when we miss it.”

“Why do you two never stop poking fun at me?”

“Because you don’t seem to understand how ridiculous you sound when you talk about girls. Romeo, you  _don’t know them_.” Benvolio sighs.

“But we’re  _soulmates_.”

“No. No you’re not. You just  _think_  you are. But you’ve  _just_  met her last night. You can’t possibly know anything about her further than her name, her face, her weight because you have this weird gift about guessing other people’s weights with disgusting accuracy-”

“She’s 43 kilograms.” mutters Romeo.

“-there you go.” Benvolio throws his arms up exasperatedly.

Mercutio’s voice is muffled as he crunches on his stolen energy bar. “43? Dude what does she  _eat_ to be that skinny?”

“She’s more like, petite.” Romeo explains.

“Focus, fellas.” Benvolio wonders if clapping his hand together makes him too much of a kindergarten teacher than he felt comfortable with. It’s almost impossible to deal with two children with the attention span of about fifteen seconds at most when directed outwards. “You don’t know this Juliet as much as you should before declaring someone your soulmate.”

“But isn’t this how all the soulmate stories work?” Romeo has recently taken a liking to those horribly cheesy online romance novellas. “You take one look and you know they’re the one.”

“Those are fictional for a reason.” Benvolio groans. “There’s no such thing as love at first sight. Infatuation at first sight, now  _that’s_ probable. But love? No.”

“What  _he_ means,” Mercutio adds helpfully, brushing off the crumbs off his palms. “Is that you’re being a gross hormonal teenager. And that is normal. But that doesn’t mean you wanna spend the rest of your life with this girl. Or if we’re putting this more eloquently: you’re thinking with your dick rather than your head.”

“Know what? I’m done with both of your distrust in me.” Romeo protests. “You never show your support in my love life, and all you ever try to do is bring my spirits down. I don’t  _need_ that negativity in my  _life._  But I know it’s because you two nerds  _care_ about my wellbeing or some shit like that so I’m not supposed to get upset over it.” He takes a breath. “Fine then. What do I have to do in order to prove myself to you?”

Benvolio exchanges a silent look with Mercutio.

Fuck.

The kid’s got a valid point.

“Request for a parents’ private discussion.” Mercutio speaks first.

“Granted.”

Mercutio grabs Benvolio by the sleeve and drags him to the corner of the room, which isn’t really necessary because it’s not a very big room, and Romeo can still  _definitely_ hear them if he tried, but Benvolio entertains him regardless.

“So what is our approach to this? Are we encouraging? Skeptical? Reluctant? I personally think it’s good he’s starting to really  _think_  about his feelings. Which is a little contradictory cause feeling is supposed to be the opposite of thinking, but you get my point.”

“Well.” Benvolio pauses. “He’s willing to own up to his words, and I think that’s a good development. I say we be...cautious about it. Give Juliet a chance? If she doesn’t resent him, and can stand holding a conversation with him, then it’s already a  _huge_ improvement from stalking Rosaline.”

“Wow.” Mercutio comments. “All this talk about Romeo maturing and taking up responsibility for his own words and action is making me weepy. Look how far my little boy’s come!”

“He’s not your little boy, Merc.” Benvolio retorts drily.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, love.  _Our_ little boy.” He waggles his eyebrows at Benvolio, who snorts.

“You’re so full of shit.”

They turn back to face Romeo, who is rocking on his heels boredly.

“The counsel has come to a decision.” Mercutio announced, “Won’t you be a dear and deliver our sentence, sweetheart?”

Benvolio whacks his arm. “First, we want to meet Juliet. And if we agree that she isn’t just being harassed by you then you’ll have our support on your pursuit of her affection.”

Romeo blinks. “That’s it?”

“What did you  _think_  it was going to be like?” Mercutio crosses his arms and leans forward with eyebrows raised. “We’re reasonable people. We’re supportive. We’re  _cool_ , right Benny?”

“You can literally hear the italics in that sentence.” Benvolio remarks. “And it’s disturbing.”

Mercutio just laughs good-naturedly. “You know you  _wuv_ me.”

“Stop.”

* * *

They meet Juliet Capulet.

She is a tiny little lady, and her flowery dress swishes when she walks.

She gives an elegant curtsy when she sees them. “Hello, I’m Juliet Capulet. May I have your permission to date your honorary son?”

It probably shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise as it does, since Romeo  _has_ said that their supposed feelings are mutual. It’s just, they’ve never seen a girl  _actually_ reciprocate his feelings.

“So you’re  _not_  bothered by this guy right here?” Mercutio asks in wonder. “He’s not  _paying you_ to say this, is he?”

“What happened to your so called  _faith_  in me?” Romeo complains under his breath.

Mercutio shrugs, and takes a bite out of his sandwich.

“Juliet’s not just going to  _go out_ with someone because they  _paid_ her.” Juliet’s little cousin protests from her side, where he’s clutching her fingers tightly in his small hand. “Stop being rude to my cousin!”

Mercutio looks startled, but hands the rest of his sandwich to Benvolio (with such little hesitation it’s infuriating), and leans down to meet the kid in the eye. “Of course. My apologies for tainting Lady Juliet’s honor. And who might her noble little knight be?”

Benvolio watches in amusement as the kid puffs out his chest proudly. “I’m Tybalt.”

Mercutio nods solemnly. “Prince of cats. A fitting name for a warrior.”

Little Tybalt appears to be pleased by the description, the fire in his eyes mellowing down, then seemingly as an afterthought, he adds, “I don’t like your friend very much. And I think his face is dumb.”

“Ty, manners.” Juliet chides sternly.

Tybalt only hisses at Romeo and shuffles closer to his cousin.

* * *

They left pretty soon, because apparently the Capulets have a family thing to attend to.

Juliet pecks Romeo on the cheek affectionately before she leaves, to which Tybalt scowls, and Romeo proceeds to grin like an absolute idiot.

“Tell me she  _isn’t_  the most perfect girl in the history of girls.” He challenges.

“You’re assuming I know anything about girls.” Mercutio deadpans.

“You’re a teenage guy.” Romeo almost looks offended.

Mercutio throws his arms up melodramatically. “You know I can never cheat on your cousin.” he sneaks an arm around Benvolio’s waist.

“We’re not together, Mercutio.” He slaps the arm away.

“You break my heart, Benny.”

Benvolio ignores him and turns to Romeo, “I’m happy for you, I really am. But I still think you should be careful about it.”

“You worry too much.” Romeo grumbles, but there’s no real flame behind it.

“I worry a reasonable amount.” Benvolio huffs.

“He worries so  _you_ don’t have to, dickhead.” Mercutio gives Romeo a good, full noogie. “He’s an actual saint. I guarantee you in ten years I will become his second husband.”

“Wait.” Benvolio snorts, deciding to entertain them, “What happened to my first?”

Mercutio’s smirk takes a dark twist. “Nothing you can prove.” he sing-songs.

* * *

“Okay but seriously though, what did you think of Juliet?”

“I think she’s alright.” Benvolio treads the issue lightly, trying to be as careful as possible. “I still think it’s a bad idea though. No matter  _how_  she is, Juliet Capulet is still the daughter of our family’s sworn-enemy. If my aunt and uncle finds out- well, let’s just say it won’t be pretty.” He shivers. “I can’t shake the feeling that this is going to end badly- like, someone’s going to get hurt from this.”

The only reason Romeo’s parents were mostly chill with Romeo pining after Rosaline Capulet is because she appeared to have no interest in him, and also because she was only a distant cousin. Benvolio can’t even  _begin_ to imagine what sort of catastrophe would fall upon the household if they discover this budding puppy love between their son and the daughter of their arch-nemesis.

The feud between the Montagues and the Capulets is downright absurd, but it’s serious business. It’s as old as the families themselves. No one quite knows where it came from, but it’s always been there. It’s as simple as that.

“Lighten  _up_.” Mercutio pokes him in the ribs where he’s ticklish, and he has to suppress a giggle. He glares at Mercutio, who holds up his hands weakly in surrender. “You can’t possibly know that for sure. And besides, this is about  _Romeo_ , and  _his life_. People get hurt in life, especially since he’s still so inexperienced in love, no matter how many people he’s crushed on in the past, but you gotta let him figure it out by himself.” he shrugs. “God I sound like a parent counselor.

“All I’m saying is, you gotta stop revolving your life around your little cousin. I mean, I get it. Your uncle and aunt practically raised you. Doesn’t mean you have to dedicate your life watching over their little son, you know?”

Romeo is his little cousin. His baby cousin he’s vowed to protect, no matter what. “Yes, I know.” It doesn’t make him feel any better, though. But he supposes it  _did_ take some of the burden off his chest.

“Seriously though,” Mercutio straightens up his spine, “You need to take care of yourself too.”

“And if I don’t? Maybe not intentionally, but what if I fail to do so properly?” he hums, feeling the shape of a smile take form on his lips. He’s never been known as the sappy one, but he can be awfully sentimental at times, and he clings on to those rare, unguarded moments greedily, if only for the fact that he  _knows_ Mercutio, and Mercutio  _knows_ him as well, perhaps better than anyone else.

Mercutio laughs and shoves him sloppily. “You  _know_  I’d always be here for you to make sure you’re not overworking yourself.” he accuses. And he’s right. But there’s a difference between simply knowing and hearing it declared out loud. “Besides,” Mercutio raises his eyebrows suggestively at Benvolio, “that’s what a husband’s  _for,_  isn’t it?”

“You’re getting way too ahead of yourself, dumbass.” He shoves right back in return and bites back a smile when he sees Mercutio stumble.

* * *

_Do you ever just think about those ancient Greek legends?_

_They’re so mythical and fascinating._

_And tragically human at the same time._

_Do you ever think about Heracles? Strongest man in the world, still, Hylas was drowned by nymphs, Sostratus died young, Abderus got eaten by carnivorous horses. He couldn’t save them._

_Do you ever think about Apollo? A god, an Olympian, yet he couldn’t prevent Zephyrus from taking his beloved Hyacinthus away from him._

_Do you ever think about Achilles? As mighty a warrior as he was, Aristos Achaion, best of the Greeks, but he brought his own downfall to avenge his lover Patroclus._

**I get the sense that you are trying to tell me something with all your Gay Greeks in a row.**

_I don’t know what you’re saying Benny. These are clearly just coincidences ;)_

**Not buying your bs even for just a second**

_I’m just wanted to make a point that the Gay Greeks were Sad Greeks and live ain’t fair and love is not forever :D_

**How will we ever cope without uncle merc’s daily pessimistic words of wisdom**

_easy. you won’t._

_but the Greeks though. They were gaaaaaaaaaaaay._

**I’m not saying I disagree**

**but why the sudden realization**

_idk man_

_do you believe in true love benny_

_like_

_all those stories_

_love couldn’t save any of them in the end_

**that’s not the point of true love Mercutio**

**because sometimes it’s just out of your control**

**and you just gotta let people go**

_love hurt them_

_why would anyone want to fall in love_

**they’re not the only people who’s been in love**

**the greeks _invented_ tragedies so it might not be the best idea to take examples from them**

_but do you believe in true love_

**Yes**

**eventually**

_goodnight ben_

**night**

* * *

Somehow they get seeked out by a little Tybalt Capulet while chewing on rapidly-melting popsicles by a fountain on a scorching Saturday afternoon.

Romeo is off doing God-knows-what with Juliet. Benvolio finds it’s better not to plague oneself with the idea.

“Montague.” He regards them coldly.

“Capulet.” Benvolio mirrors, frowning at the boy’s hostility in his voice. Then almost immediately after, his face starts burning from shame due to his immaturity. “Tybalt, is it?” he shrinks to a much gentler tone, “Do you have something you want to say to us?”

Tybalt doesn’t answer him, instead, he stares straight at Mercutio. “I don’t like your friend. The one going after Juliet? Can you tell him to stop?”

Mercutio narrows his eyes. “Whoa whoa whoa, little fella. You don’t ignore someone who’s asked you a question. You’re being very rude to my  _other_ dear friend Benvolio here.”

Tybalt blinks. “But he’s a Montague.”

“And?”

“We don’t converse with Montagues.” the boy says it like it’s a matter of fact. “We either ignore them or scream at them. I think.”

“Okay.” Mercutio nods, “but Benvolio didn’t ignore,  _or_ scream at you, did he? And you’re a Capulet. It doesn’t matter what family someone is from, we should at least be polite to them, okay?”

Tybalt looks as if he were struggling with himself internally, and Benvolio just thinks about how sad it is that kids, children at  _their_  relatively much more civil times, are still brainwashed to loathe each other, _and at such a young age as well_.

“If my parents find out that I’ve been talking to a Montague without trying my best to insult him at every chance possible, they’ll have my skin. And I don’t think it’s very polite to insult someone while trying to ask them for their assistance.” he explains, a little helplessly to Mercutio.

Mercutio raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, can’t help you.” He takes a big bite out of his popsicle, chewing as obnoxiously as possible. “Romeo’s  _his_ cousin, not mine. If you’re going to ask for help, at least ask the person who might  _actually_ be helpful to your cause.”

Tybalt Capulet flushes red, and Benvolio wonders if it’s more from anger or embarrassment. Regardless, Mercutio’s plan seems to be working, seeing as he’s now turned towards  _Benvolio_  stiffly, “Will you please ask your cousin to stop trying to date  _my_ cousin?” he grumbles reluctantly.

“There you go, much better!” Mercutio butts in with a shit-eating grin. “Aaaand, answer:” he flashes a gesture towards Benvolio.

Benvolio pushes down the urge to roll his eyes at his friend, and says to Tybalt, “And why would I need to do that? What is the reason behind your request, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m scared that my uncle would find out about it.” he eventually blurts out. “If he finds out that Juliet is dating a  _Montague,_  he will  _flip out_. Uncle wants Juliet to marry into  _his_ family,” Tybalt jabs a finger at Mercutio’s direction, “I believe.”

Mercutio just laughs. “Look, I’m flattered that your uncle would consider it, but I-”

“Not you.” Tybalt deadpans. “Your cousin, if I remember correctly. You have a cousin called Paris?”

“Ugh, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes.” Mercutio pulls a face. “He’s no fun at family gatherings. Always going,  _You gotta have more self-respect, Merc._ and  _No, you definitely should not try to rollerblade around the house. What if you injure yourself?_  and  _Please don’t run down the street with your underwear worn on your head. It’s not cool, or rebellious. It’s just dumb._ Well, screw him. It’s not like I’m forcing him to do it with me.”

It should be classified as a miracle that at that very moment, a Montague and a Capulet amazingly synced an identical expression of distaste.

“Anyway.” Benvolio says back to Tybalt, glad that there has been a mutual understanding that they are going to pretend that Mercutio never even opened his mouth. “I’m really sorry but I can’t exactly help you much in this case, though I  _do_ share similar concerns. At the end of the day, it’s  _their_ decision. Not ours. And the best we can do is to stand by their side and offer our support, defend them if necessary. I care about my cousin like you care about yours, and I know that the last thing you want is to see her get hurt.” He tries for a reassuring smile. “I get that. And I respect that, but I think you should go to  _Juliet_  if it really bothers you this much.”

Tybalt fell silent. Maybe he’s processing the words in his mind. Finally, he nods once, and says, “Okay. I’ll think about it.” Then he turns around, and starts marching off.

“Wait,” Mercutio calls out lazily behind him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He freezes in his steps and turns back to Benvolio. “Thank you.” he mutters.

“What’s that?” Mercutio yells at the boy. “Can’t hear you. Must be the strong winds.”

The air is still with lingering heat, and Benvolio has to contain his amusement inwards.

“ _Thank you!_ ” Tybalt hollers, annoyance clear in his voice, before he scampers off frantically, probably in fear of some other demand from Mercutio.

Benvolio glances at his friend. “You’re really good with kids.” he remarks.

Mercutio snorts. “Nah. Kid probably won’t ever want to be within a thirty-foot radius from me again.”

He denies it, but Benvolio  _knows_ Mercutio is going to make a great parent one day, in his own unique and wonderfully odd way.

 _If_ he ever decides to have kids, that is.

* * *

“ _Soooo_ ……” Romeo comes up to him one rare day that he’s  _not_ spending with Juliet. Shocker. “Aren’t you going to ask me how my quest for love is going so far?”

Benvolio doesn’t take the very obvious bait. Not yet. “No, not really interested, why?”

“C’mon, c’mon ask  _ask_  me.” His tone is one near to a whine.

Okay. It’s justified, since he’s happy in love and everything, and it’s already much better than his normal state of moaning over an unrequited crush, but it’s like a slap to his face about how utterly  _single_ he is.

“What’s there to ask?” Benvolio retorts, and there’s a twinge of amusement in his voice. "I get it, you’re doing  _wonderful_. I’m happy that this thing with Juliet is looking good, I really am, but-”

“Nope. Not gonna hear it. Not gonna listen to your negativity, remember?” Romeo sticks out a tongue at him. “You said you were going to support us. We’re going to prove it. We’re going to prove that a relationship between a Montague and a Capulet could  _work._  Me and Juliet, we’ll do it together.”

The conviction in his voice is almost inspiring. And it almost gives  _hope_ , if there really  _is a way for their families to leave this petty rivalry behind them, if there really is a way to reach peace once and for all-_

The door squeaks open.

“Hello, dearies.” his aunt swings into the room, taking off her coat elegantly and leaving it dismissively on the clothing rack next to the doorway. “Who is this Juliet girl you speak of?”

“She’s my girlfriend.” Romeo answers just as carelessly.

Benvolio freezes. Why can’t he just keep his mouth  _shut_.

“Girlfriend, you say?” his aunt’s gaze immediately sharpens, she redirects her attention onto her nephew. “Is this true, Benvolio?”

Benvolio curses inwardly at Romeo for letting the information slip. And it’s ridiculous, because isn’t it in every teenager’s coding to never let their parents know  _anything_  about their private lives?

If he takes a wrong step and accidently reveal Juliet’s heredity- well, Lady Montague’s going to have his head.

“Well?” she asks again.

“Yes.” He replies glumly.

Everyone always asks Benvolio to confirm things since he had a policy of not lying. And it’s going to be the death of him.

Screw scouts’ honor. He didn’t even  _like_ boy scouts.

His aunt sets her hands on her hips. “ _Oh,_ this is an  _outrage_!” she sighs melancholy. “My own darling son and dearest nephew, keeping a secret together, from  _me_! Teenage boys and your teenage secrets.” she turns her head away sorrowfully.

It’s where Romeo’s melodramatic flare came from. Obviously. Because his dad is perfectly normal. He’s the type that tries a little too hard to connect with the “youngsters”.

At least he puts in the effort. Benvolio can appreciate that.

“I mean, I expected this behavior from my son Romeo,” she sighs, “but you too, Benvolio?”

“I’m not your spy, auntie.” He reminds her.

“You’re  _not_?” his aunt feigns surprise. “Why do we keep you around, then?”

Benvolio knows that she’s just kidding, but it sends an uncomfortable tremor down his spine nevertheless.

“Well, then. When were you planning to introduce your l _ady friend_  to me, Romeo?” she asks idly.

Romeo seemingly finally  _gets_ the severity of the situation, judging by the look of distress he shoots Benvolio.

Honestly what does he even expect from Benvolio at this point? Kid dug his own grave.

Benvolio takes pity upon him all the same, which doesn’t really matter when added up to all the other regrettable choices he’s made throughout his entire life. “You might want to give them some time, Auntie.” he slides in smoothly. “Meeting the parents is a  _huge_ step. Heck, it’s the first real commitment.” at this, he gives Romeo a pointed look. His cousin winces sheepishly. He swallows back a sigh.

His aunt does not swallow  _her sigh_  though. “I suppose that’s fair enough.” she agrees grudgingly. “But seriously though, I’d love to meet the first girl who’s actually taken an interest in my son.” she teases, giving her son a good hair-tussle, to which Romeo whined in complaint, dodging away from his mother.

“Yeah, Ma. I heard you.” he mumbles.

Then she puts on an odd look. “You know you can tell me anything, right? You too, Benvolio.”

Benvolio glances at his cousin, to find himself meeting an equally quizzical look. “Sure?” Romeo answers uncertainly.

“And I would understand it if Juliet is a part of your fantasies. There’s really nothing to be ashamed of.”

“ _Ma!_ ”

“Or if Juliet is code for a significant other of another gender because I’m very open-minded about-.”

“ _Maaaaaaaa!_ ”

“I’m serious!” she insists. “I don’t want either of you boys to be suffering from internalized homophobia.”

Romeo makes a spluttering noise. “I’m  _straight_ , Ma. I like  _girls_. Period.”

“And you, Benny.” his aunt turns to him with an earnest look. “Just because your cousin’s going around blurting out his sexuality doesn’t mean you have to do the same. You’re allowed to deal with it in your own terms, okay?”

“Ma, you’re so  _embarrassing_.”

She huffs, and smacks her son over the head. “Better embarrassing than intimidating. This is a safe and accepting household.” she declares.

Though the sentiment is nice, Benvolio can’t help but find it sort of ironic how she claims to be so supportive of them, but once she learns of who Romeo’s  _really_ seeing, she would surely blow her top, right?

* * *

She’s truly a sweet girl. Juliet, that is.

Benvolio doesn’t get to spend much time with her because she’s always cooped up by Romeo’s side, and it’s really awkward third-wheeling.

And frankly speaking, they don’t have much in common to talk about, but Romeo is running late, so  _he’s_  up to entertain the guest.

“Sorry if this question is rude, but how old are you again?”

“I’m thirteen and a half.” she smiles pleasantly.

“Right.”

And then the awkwardness is back.

How do you talk to a not-quite-kid who’s four years younger than you are? Well- three and a half.

“I remember when  _I_ was thirteen.” Benvolio blurts in panic, trying to cover up the lapse of silence. “Horrible year. Middle school was hell. And unfortunately I can’t say it gets any better in high school.” he flinches. “Sorry. I’m not exactly a social person and I can’t converse properly.”

“It’s fine.” she offers a tiny laugh. “Conversing is hard. If only we can all just talk to each other without having to  _guess_  whatever the other person is thinking about.” her eyes glosses over.

“Speaking from experience?”

“Sadly.” she sighs heavily, and fiddles with her dress mindlessly. “My mom is the epitome of passive-aggressiveness, and my papa.” she hesitates. “I know he wants, ‘the best for me’, but I would  _appreciate it_ if he didn’t try to run my  _entire life._ ” Juliet huffs exasperatedly. “At least he’s direct about it.” she chuckles humorlessly.

Juliet tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “You’re not here to hear me vent.” she says apologetically.

He shakes his head vigorously. “You’re good. We really should let the void have some rest anyway. I’ll be their temporary substitute.”

She giggles at that. “You’re like that nice old lady at the bus stop.” she tells him. “Way too easy for someone to overshare their entire life story if they let their guard down.”

“It’s a burden I bear.” he nods along solemnly. “I also run a blog to guide anonymous, troubled souls.”

“Do you really?”

“No.”

“You should consider about it.” she narrows her eyes thoughtfully.

“Noted.” Benvolio replies formally.

Then they both dissolve into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, what is going on here?” Romeo slides in between them, abruptly “What is this? You’re having fun  _without_ me?” he pouts. “I’m wounded.”

“Get lost, we’re bonding.” comments Benvolio while Juliet just snorts and gives him a hug. “Hey, you.” she smiles, and it’s a little too private to be displayed so easily.

“Hey, you, yourself.” Romeo responds throatily without a mirroring lovesick smile of his own, and suddenly, it’s too intimate to watch, and Benvolio feels a little suffocated.

“That’s it.” he stands up. “You’re gross. This is gross. I’m going to go bleach my eyes now.”

They cackle behind him, no doubt finding joy in his misery.

“Bye, Benvolio.” Juliet calls out cheerily. “It’s nice getting to know you.”

He lifts his arm in half a wave in response.

* * *

“What do you think about Juliet,  _so far?_ ”

Mercutio shrugs, taking a long sip from his cheap lemonade. “I think she’s alright. She has my approval at least. She’s very generous with her food, which is a quality trait that I admire in people.”

“I like her.” Benvolio says plainly, and at Mercutio’s over-exaggerated look that practically screams  _scandalous!_  he swats Mercutio’s arm. “As a not-quite-acquaintance slash sorta friend slash cousin’s girlfriend, you dolt. It’s the families we have to worry about now.”

“So we’re in?” Mercutio raises his eyebrows. “For real. We’re going to stand with them if shit goes down?”

“Yeah.” Benvolio’s mouth tastes dry, like sandpaper. “We gave our word. Romeo can’t come this far just to have his love life being brutally torn away by some self-righteous adults.”

“Our glorious teenage years! Fighting against oppression from our dull parental figures.” Mercutio says, and he lifts his glass. “Cheers.”

“I will never understand how you manage to down that powdered crap.”

* * *

Mercutio whistles appreciatively. “That’s a wicked-looking sword you got there, kid.”

Tybalt Capulet grunts, and unsheathes it from his waist. “It’s called a rapier.” he tells them.

Mercutio nods. “I can’t believe your parents let you have a rapier. Mine seem to think that the proper weapon for boys these days are Nerf guns.” he gags. “Lame. In my opinion, having a gun is just lazy, because the gun does everything  _for_ you. Cold weapons test your  _real_ skills.”

“ _Right_? No one has any appreciation for these anymore! But they’re just so much  _classier_ , and-” he clamps his mouth shut, like he might be embarrassed about his outburst, if his bright blush is any indication. “Sorry.” he mumbles. “I just think it’s nice that there are other people who think rapiers are… nifty… as well.”

* * *

“What’s that thing about the kid probably not ever wanting to be within a thirty-foot radius from you again?”

“ _Did you seriously just quote me word by word?_ That’s  _freakish,_ Ben.”

“It’s actually paraphrasing.” Benvolio corrects him. “There’s a difference. I changed all the pronouns, so.”

Mercutio wrinkles his nose. “That’s  _freakish_.” he says again.

Benvolio grins.

* * *

Juliet Capulet eventually  _does_ meet the Montague family, and Benvolio is there when chaos breaks out.

Well, of course, the family put on a calm and semi-polite presentation for the girl, (even though Benvolio can tell how tense his uncle’s hand is, when he pours water for all of them; and the twitchy motion in his aunt’s eyeballs is definitely more than just a random tic.) but the moment they’ve sent her out the door, all hell unleashes.

_“Romeo, what have we told you about being careful abou-”_

_“No, Ma! This is_ my  _life! I get to decide-”_

“Young man you have  _no right_ to scream at your mother like this.”

“Not  _you too, Pa!_ ”

“Romeo-” Benvolio finally opens his mouth.

His cousin tugs at his hair with a scream. “Not you  _too_ , Benny. I thought you  _liked her._ ”

“I do, but you have to calm the  _hell_  down.” he rubs his temples tiredly.

Being in the Montague household in the middle of an argument is like living in a battlefield of a full-blown civil war. Benvolio supposes that’s what you get for a family full of drama queens. It’s a yelling match to see who tires out first. He hates watching it unfold. Raised voices brings back memories. Unwelcome ones.

“Benvolio!” his aunt glares at him. “You knew about this.” she accuses.

“Yes.” He tastes bile on his tongue, but he doesn’t back down.

“And you didn’t  _tell me_?” She sounds genuinely upset, which is what’s so  _troubling_ about the whole situation.

“Auntie.” Benvolio starts. “It is not our place to decide who Romeo dates or not. And I  _know_ the Capulets are supposed to be our  _sworn-enemy_ or something.”  _It’s such an_ outdated _concept-_  “But you told us just a few days ago that this is a safe and accepting household. That’s why Romeo’s trusting you enough to bring Juliet  _here_.” He hugs himself around the waist. Tighter,  _tighter, can’t breath._

Because everyone is yelling, everyone is  _always yelling._  He remembers his own Papa and Mama yelling. Yelling at him, yelling at each other. They think Benvolio couldn't hear them. They were wrong.  _Why would you want a kid in the first place if you can’t take responsibility?!_

“I know this isn’t my place to speak, because there’s  _never a place for me to speak,_  but…” he trails off, unable to capture any more of where his words has come tumbling from, and for a moment they just stood there, frozen.

Then, very slowly, his uncle clears his throat. “Is that how you feel in this home, Benvolio?”

And suddenly it’s too much to take in, and it’s like a power-button just shut his mind down, because he barely remembers saying, “Sorry. I need to get some fresh air.” and then proceeding to just stride through the halls and out the door.

* * *

His phone blows up with notifications of missed calls and incoming texts and Benvolio should  _really_ stop and read them and respond to them because he’s  _worrying_ people and no one should ever have to worry about  _Benvolio,_  but he just can’t. He’s on autopilot, and he has no more control on his limbs, and they take him down the road.

He doesn’t know where he’s going. His mind is racing a mile an hour.

_Please, dear, not in front of Benvolio._

_You mean **I’m**  the psychotic one?! That  **I’m the crazy one**  for feelin-_

Shrill laughter fills the room sharply.

_So you’re turning our son against me now?_

_HE’S TOO YOUNG FOR THIS!_

_I NEVER wanted to have a kid in the first place, remember? **You were the one**_

_Shut up **shut up SHUT UP**_

“Benvolio Montague?” His head is hammering violently. Everything sounds a little off-kilter to him, like he’s underwater. “Aren’t you Benvolio Montague?”

He jumps, and Tybalt Capulet is looking into his eyes steadily, the boy’s own eyes are attentive and reasonably curious. “Tybalt.” he frowns, protective instincts kicking in. “What are you doing out here alone this late?”

The boy ignores his question completely. “Are you okay?” his tiny frame stands tall, head tilted in observation. “You don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine, Tybalt.” Benvolio says. He never dreamed that there would be a day that he would assure a Capulet of his own well-being. He never dreamed that any Capulet would be concerned for him in the first place.

“Are you running away from home?” the question catches him off-guard.

“No.” Benvolio says. “No.” he says again, to himself. “Of course not. Where would I go?” he smiles a little helplessly.

“There’s always some place to go.” Tybalt insists. “And when there isn’t, you can always go home.” He says to Benvolio. “Go home.”

“Okay.” Benvolio responds. “You should get home too. Do you know the way?”

“Yeah.” he says quickly. “I know how to get home.”

“You sure?” Benvolio narrows his eyes. “Why are you out here in the first place?”

Tybalt flushes red, squawking, “It’s none of your business!”

* * *

 

_Face it. Think it through reasonably. We are not fit to take care of this child anymore._

_**No.** He's my child. I can't  **give up on**_ **_him._** _  
_

_I won't let us become Benvolio's doom!_

_......_

_I'll ask my brother about it._

_He's OUR CHILD!! How are you being so calm about throwing him away?!_

_I'm not **throwing him away!** I'm trying to give him a CHANCE! A better chance than we would be able to provide!_

_That's **bullshit**. You just don't want the  **responsibility**._

_And **you do**?_

**_He's our CHILD!_ **

And so what choice does he leave Benvolio other than making his way back to the Montague household?

* * *

Mercutio, for some reason is there as well when he gets back.

In fact, he’s sitting right on the porch, and Mercutio’s eyes light up when he sees him.

“Ben!” he calls, “ _Benny!_ ” Then, “ _Benvolio!_ ”

“Yes,” Benvolio replies coolly. “That is indeed my name.”

“You  _suck_.” Mercutio groans, as he throws his arms around Benvolio in a choking grip.

And after that, “ _Is that Benny? Ben’s back!_ ” Then in an instant there’s another weight slamming into them. Romeo sobs into Benvolio’s shoulder. “I was  _worried_.”

“I’m  _fine_ ,” he laughs, mussing Romeo’s hair with his free hand. “Quit the tears already.”

“ _Benvolio Montague._ ”

He gulps, looking up and meeting his aunt’s glowering face.

“How much longer are you going to make me wait until you come over and give me a proper hug?”

Romeo laughs tearfully while he and Mercutio push him in his aunt’s direction together. She gathers Benvolio in a warm embrace.

“Aren’t you going to lecture me about-”

“Shut up and hug me.” she shushes him. “We’ll talk about it some other time, okay?”

Then she releases him, and Benvolio finds himself in his uncle’s hold instead. “You’re a part of this household. Got it, son?” His voice is gruff and firm.

“Got it.” Benvolio hides his choked answer in his uncle’s broad shoulders.

His arms are gentle and it feels a bit like coming home.

* * *

“It’s okay to tell us if you’re feeling overwhelmed, dear. We’ll understand.” Her hand is gentle, carding through his hair. “We’ll help as best as we can.”

* * *

“ _Yes, you can date Juliet_.” Benvolio’s aunt sighs, rolling her eyes. “Did you really think I could do anything to stop you? What would I do?  _Ground you_?”

“Yeah?” Romeo asks uncertainly.

“You’re fifteen, Romeo. Not  _five_.” she huffs. “The reason I was so upset is that you hesitated  _so long_  before introducing her. I never wanted my children under the pressure of hiding secrets from us.”

“And that she’s a Capulet.” Romeo mutters under his breath.

“Fine,  _maybe_ a bit to do with her being a Capulet.” she admits. “But what’s important is that she makes you happy.”

“She does.” Romeo says happily. “She really does, Ma.”

“Then I’m glad.” she smiles. “But if that girl dare break my son’s heart-”

“Not going to happen. I promise!”

Personally, Benvolio thinks that a big part of his aunt’s acceptance of Juliet came from the fact that after Benvolio walked out that day, Romeo immediately phoned Juliet about it, who’d calmed him down, and told him to just stay put so there would be someone for Benvolio to return to, while she herself went out looking for him. Which was why Tybalt had been out on the streets that day.

So Benvolio  _had_  played a part in bringing the two families together, in a way. Probably.

He’d have to remember to thank Juliet and Tybalt properly some other day.

He and Mercutio watch from the sidelines. Mercutio drinks his bubble tea and peers over at Benvolio. “Why were we even worried in the first place?”

He shrugs. “You can never be too careful.”

“That’s a stupid saying and you know it.”

Benvolio hums contently. “Your face is stupid and we still love you.”

“I don’t know whether to feel insulted or flattered.” Mercutio snorts. “But thank you anyway, Benny. I love you too.”

“You’re just saying that.” Benvolio rolls his eyes affectionately, and steals Mercutio’s drink, which earns him a pointed glare. “So you think it’s going to last this time?”

“I mean, she  _is_ the first girl to like him back.” Mercutio reasons. “I thought you were pro-true love or something.”

“I’m trying to be realistic.” Benvolio retorts. “I thought you were anti-true love or something.”

Mercutio makes a huge show of stretching his limbs. “Well, I mean my beliefs are one thing. Romeo’s happiness is another. And the most important thing is Romeo’s happy with his life. Besides,” he snatches back his bubble tea ferociously, “It’s his life, not mine.”

“You’d make a great parent someday.” Benvolio says automatically without thinking. “If you ever become one, that is. And if you treat your child with an equally open mind.” he adds hastily. “What with your  _free roaming spirit, nothing ties me down_ attitude. No offence.”

“None taken, dear.” Mercutio says back softly, and when Benvolio looks ever, there is an unfamiliar, gentle smile resting on his lips. “Thank you, though. Coming from the certified Mom Friend, I take it as a high compliment.”

“It is.” Benvolio confirms, looking down at his fidgeting feet.

“Would you want to be a parent one day?” Mercutio asks.

“I like kids.” Benvolio says. “But I’m not very good with them.”

“That’s bullshit.” his friend says back without missing a beat.

It makes him feel warm and gooey inside, in a good way, but he doesn’t say anything in response of the unconditional support. Instead, he answers vaguely, “Who knows what the future holds.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Mercutio nods, and takes a sip. Then he hands his tea over to Benvolio.

Mercutio very very rarely ever shares his food, so before he can change his mind, Benvolio swipes it swiftly and takes a huge gulp.

“I’d have a kid with you.” Mercutio says suddenly, in an unusually serious voice.

It’s such a strange thing to come out of him, and Benvolio sort of stills, from the bewilderment.

He looks up, and meets Mercutio’s darting gaze. “You would?” he inquires.

“Yes.”

The solemn tone gives it an uncanny resemblance to a wedding vow, and Benvolio isn’t sure how he feels about it yet.

“That would be tying you down.” he shakes his head. “I know you want to travel all over the world in the future. To be  _unrestrained_.”

“I wouldn’t mind it if it were you.” It’s too quiet.

“Or?” Benvolio prompts.

“Or,” a mischievous smile creeps on Mercutio’s face. “I’d take you with me. You, and our kid, all over the world. It’d be good for our kid to expand their views.”

“A thrilling adventure.” Benvolio agrees.

“I’d have a kid with you, Benvolio.” he says again.

“I know, Mercutio.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Mercutio rests his head on Benvolio’s shoulders, humming happily, and Benvolio feels his chest tightening with appreciation for his friend.

“Juliet’s officially earned Mama Montague’s approval.” Romeo announces unceremoniously as he approached the pair lounging on their couch. It’s met with half-enthusiastic cheers due to the summer heat zapping out the boys’ energy.

“I’d really appreciate it if you two weren’t acting so aloof.” Romeo complains. “It’s a big deal for me.”

Mercutio lifts his head and shares a look with Benvolio.

“I’d suggest you not celebrating so early.” he starts lazily.

“Yeah.” Benvolio continues. “You still gotta meet  _her_ folks, remember?”

“ _Shit_.”

* * *

_I know this is a lot to ask of you, but we simply can't raise Benvolio properly. Not with all our erratic business trips._

_He's your **son**. Are you seriously dumping your son on me and my family?_

_I have no choice._

_You always have a choice, and you're making a wrong one. You do realize your son is going to grow up feeling misplaced?_

_Don't test me._

_I'll raise your child. I'll raise Benvolio like my own. And when he grows up to be a wonderful fine gentleman, you'll regret leaving him in the first place._

_Thank you for doing this for me._

_It's not for you. It's for Benvolio._

* * *

 (Their boyish laughter ring. These are the glorious days.)

**Author's Note:**

> i'd leave my tumblr but what's the point  
> uhhh leave a kudos/comment/both if you'd like or if you have any questions regarding my choices or settings and have a wonderful day, dear reader who somehow made it past this huge chunk of nonsense : )  
> Seriously though I appreciate you reading this thank you so so much and you're all amazing


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